Burning Water and Drowning Flames
by TheCountessCorpse
Summary: They all said that she was the quintessence of every ocean. She was a woman as unpredictable and untamable as the sea. And while most saw this as a warning to stay clear and avoid her anger, one particular God saw this as nothing more than a challenge. But what happens when his challenge turns into so much more than a game of dominance. Rated M for adult content. Loki/OC


_I lost my heart, my home is the ocean.  
The waves underneath will soon be my home.  
I will fall asleep.  
I'll close my eyes and dream of days when I wasn't all alone._

All that I know is gone  
(Take what is left of me now)  
All that I know is gone  
(Take what is left of me)  
Fall deeper and deeper, the sirens are singing your songs.

I'll miss my breath, there's no more left.  
I'll miss the sound of the wind at my back.  
The depths have a number, they call you by name.  
Fall asleep, Davy Jones calls you.  
So fall asleep, fall asleep and dream.

All that I know is gone  
(Take what is left of me now)  
All that I know is gone  
(Take what is left of me)  
Fall deeper and deeper, the sirens are singing your songs.

All was silent. The only sound to fall upon the crew's ears were the frantically beating hearts of their fellow sailors. They knew what awaited them, though none of them dared to speak their knowledge. But no words were needed as they stood on the rickety old slabs of wood that formed the aged ship. It had been a fools' journey to come here, they knew that well. But by nature, no God could stop them from traveling to Birka to claim the abundance of food and riches they knew awaited there. It was not their place of pillaging that concerned them, but the travel across Hel's ocean that frightened them.

Twenty men made up the crew of the large Viking ship, all dressed in furs and dead skins of numerous animals of Norway's land. Brown, black, and grey were the colors that were splattered across the rough men's' backs. Patches of the animal fur and skin hung from their broad shoulders, barely concealing the heavy and hard armor that adorned their stalwart forms. Beards of red, grey, white, and blonde draped their necks from sight, matching the colors perfectly of each man's untamed mustaches and long, ungroomed hair. Frost pricked the tips of their long bristles as their eyebrows stayed furrowed, almost frozen in place as they all watched the abyss fog of the ocean warily. Some of the men had lost feeling in their appendages long ago, but refused to show weakness and fall to the warming brandy barrels below deck. No, one could not show weakness around such boorish men, even if they were such a man themselves.

The looming darkness of the approaching night struck even more unease into the minds and large hearts of the Viking crew as the sound of water gently lapping at the ships' sides began to turn a sound of paranoia and horrible certainty at what lie ahead for the twenty men on board. Few dared to look over the sides of the safe haven of the ship, in fear of the black waters that shattered against the sides of the wooden craft. But more so was the fear of looking into the black waters and seeing a sight of horror. For in the black waters of the Bohyun, there gave home to creatures of ill demeanor and intention for any of those who dared cross such waters.

A haunting chill crept dangerously up the backs of the large men, causing them all to turn to look for the source of such fear, but nothing lay behind them said for the black abyss of their recently traveled path. Had they been unsure of their whereabouts in accordance to their map, they would have thought they were simply floating as bodies in the water, unmoving and silent, too lifeless and fearful to try and find themselves back to their course.

The boat creaked below their heavy feet as they turned their eyes back to the dark, looming fog that lay ahead of them. A man, with a large pot stomach and a tangled red beard turned back to the men standing behind him. A helmet of long, ivory horns sat atop his large head, almost covering his furrowing blonde eyebrows as he spoke, his mustache so long it almost muffled his words.

"Let us make haste when we reach the shores of Birka. I feel that we are close, and I forbid prolonging our travels back through these waters. We must sail back through these Hel's waters. I command it be sooner than later." His voice was loud over the small crowd of men, his breath floating into the air in the form of a small cloud of white air, clearly chilled by the frozen temperatures of the surrounding waters. His name, as known well by all of the crusaders that stood in his presence, was Eirik. Born of a famed warrior who fought the first battle of Norway, he had done much to follow precisely in his father's giant footsteps, so much as to command such a journey as he did now, through the waters of Bohyun, a dead fool's journey as his father so called it. But stubborn and determined to prove himself even the more heroic and brave than his own father, the young Eirik had gathered nineteen hopeless, uncaring and brace warriors he could find across the Norse lands to accompany him on his quest to ransack the fruitful land of Birka.

"She won't bid us passage a second time, Eirik. 'Tis surprising she is bidding us a first." The low voice of the red bearded Ivar spoke the worry of the surrounding warriors, who all seemed to nod in agreement with the soldier's protest. But the fair haired Eirik simply held up his hands, asking for silence from his fellow man. His dark blue eyes stared at the winter worn faces of the men before him. There was no hope that gleamed in their eyes, nor excitement for the land of Birka that await them. Fear and regret were the only emotions he could seem to find on the faces of his fellow Vikings. His eyebrows furrowed in anger. Cowards were not what he had wished to fight along his side, should such damned creatures as those residing in the Bohyun show themselves in an attack.

"Cowards you are, all of you!" Eirik shouted, pushing a few men aside to make his way down the narrow walkway of the boat's center, storming down into the lower cabins of the boat, determined to fetch brandy in hopes that a drunken stupor would distract them from their fear and self worry. His mess of furs disappeared into the haul below as his followers eyes looked upon each other, searching for who next would voice their worry of Hel's waters. A graying man stood a bit taller, looking amongst the faces of the more youthful warriors. He had seen his days and battle, and whatever had convinced him to adorn his armor once more seemed to quickly be lost from his mind as fear too filled his aging sight. He looked upon the men before him and couldn't help the thought of all their deaths come flooding his mind like a plague of ill nature. They were too young to die here, in the black depths of her merciless waves. He pitied all of them. Women surely awaited their strong, warm return on the shores of their home village, but alas, no woman would ever lay eyes upon these men again. For the ocean would claim them as her own in the matter of minutes. _Fools. _

"Nay cowards, ye are fools. Fools for ever thinking that this journey would bring you anything more than a trip to Aegir's watery grave stones. Do you not see? These are black waters you fools! Never in my years have I seen waters so black. Death! It is death you fools!" Shouted Ivar, looking around at the faces of the young warriors, all glancing between each other, either questioning each other as to whether they should leap from the deck of the mighty long ship, or throw the elder gray man over themselves. Surely he was insane. Surely his fear had turned to dementia and a longing will to die.

Steinar, the youngest of the crew began to look worriedly at the now thrashing black waters below his feet. It seemed they too had heard the words of Ivar, and upon them, grew angry and evil. A young boy, no less than 20 years of age, Steinar gulped, his adam's apple bobbing up and down grotesquely as he looked upon the old man with worried and frantic eyes. He knew what the old man spoke was true. He was a fool for being here, for ever agreeing to take part in such a fateful journey.

"She knows what we intend to do upon breaching the shores of Birka. And should she let us pass, she would be mocking her own father. Mark my words, fellow fools, we will never reach Birka, nor home. We have signed our fate. We have signed it over to the sea maiden herself!" Shouted Ivar once again, causing all of the men to burst out in a fit of raging conversation. He was right, surely the maiden knew of their ill intentions upon the peaceful village or Birka. Indeed, thought Steinar, their fate had been signed.

The burly Norsemen began shouting amongst themselves, shouting damnation to the black waters, and shouting prayer to Odin, begging helplessly for their lives to be spared. No danger had surrounded them so far, but the old man's words were wise, and he knew well of the travel by sea. He himself, in all of his years, had never seen waters so black, he had said so himself. His words hung in the air as a looming warning, a siren almost as a means for the warriors to find an end quickly. But as his words hung in the air, they were met by a low hum. One, long, low hum. All of the men fell to the wooden benches of the boat, their knees having grown weak from fear and anxiety of such a noise. The hum failed to falter as they looked around the black waters, looking for any sign of a source. But as their eyes searched curiously, the sound of a voice brought their ears to a frightening tone.

Steinar sat, his eyes fixated upon the black waters that vibrated in rhythm with the low hum that filled his ears to a deafening limit.

"She's come for us all." Ivar said, staggering to stand at the helm of the boat, before turning to look into the dreading eyes of his fellow seamen. His eyes were glazed over almost, turning a deep blue of lifelessness as his mouth hung open just a bit, the harsh winds of the black waters blowing his mustache and beard like fire around him. The winds began to pick up and the sky grew an eerie grey color as the waters became even more restless then before. The great gusts of air seemed to pound at the sails of the ship as the rest of the men watched in horror, Ivar still motionless as he stood at the helm, an almost corpse-like manner of action portrayed him as his mouth drew wider even more.

"Look, you fools!" He shouted, pointing his finger towards the black waters to the right of the boat that seemed to be glowing amongst the blackness. And while the glow itself was black, it made a gruesomely breathtaking contrast against the surrounding darkness of the sky and sea. Every man aboard the ship watched in shocking horror and amazement as, from the glowing spot of blackness amongst the raging waters, the hair of a woman began to show, the top of her head surfacing first. Her head consisted of long, waving dark golden tresses as she began to rise from the water by no effort of her own. Her thin eyebrows were raised in anger as her lids remained a quarter of the way closed. Her face was of a sun kissed white, accented with a pair of full, neutral lips that remained in a solid line of stiffness, matching that scornful look in her icy eyes. She was of thin form, her body concealed by a black gown of multiple lengths, the fabric of the finest chiffon as it lay tightly against her body, soaked from the black waters she rose from. She exuded barely any emotion as the black water continued to whip harshly into crashing waves that caressed the side of the ship. The low humming continued, not faltering even once as she came to stand in the waters beside the ship, the bottom of her gown hiding her feet, blending perfectly with the black water below her. She kept her eyes transfixed upon Ivar as he stood, cowering at her presence. The sound of the violent waves seemed to mute as she held up her hand, signaling all of the men to bow before her. One by one, they fell each to one knee before her, placing their right fists over their hearts as she raised her head above them, watching them cower and shake in her presence.

"Spare us your mightiness, oh beautiful maiden!" Shouted Ivar, daring to look up into the icy sea foam green eyes that glared down at him and his fellow companions. Her gaze remained unchanged as she looked upon each and every seaman before her. Her lips parted only slightly as she spoke, her voice was soft yet cold as she began to walk gradually closer to the ship, the water she stood upon swirling magnificently beneath her feet.

"You have traveled many lengths upon this sea, yet you have paid no homage to the God who has so created it." She spoke, watching as the soldiers began to rise a bit to look upon her, unable to speak as they silently elected Ivar to be the one most suited to be thrown from the ship, should anything his tongue portray anger the maiden before them. No living man had ever seen her before, only myths and legends had been told of her treachery and punishment upon those who traveled Bohyun. No man had lived to survive her visitation. The men aboard the ship swallowed nervously, wondering just how long she would prolong their deaths with her voice. And while the men found her to be beautiful and wondrous, they knew that she was but the face of death.

"We have prayed to Aegir many a time for safe travel, dear maiden. Have we not done so to his liking?" Ivar asked, watching as the maiden reached out a delicate hand, letting it run smoothly across the banister of the wooden ship, her eyes never leaving Ivar's.

"You have insulted him with your intentions upon Bohyun. You have intended to use the waters as a means to reach Birka, have you not?" Her question seemed to be more of a statement as the waters began to grow dark again, swirling and thrashing about violently as her own eyes began to darken. At this time, Eirik had come above deck to question what had so silenced the waves. His gaze landed upon the woman who held the attention of his men and he immediately fell to both knees, landing with a boom, averting the maiden's gaze from Ivar to Eirik. A small smirk graced her plush lips as she set eyes upon the blonde Viking.

"Ah, Eirik. Word had reached my ears that this voyage would be of your own plan. Tell me, how have my father's waters treated you upon such an ill natured journey?" The smirk never left her lips as her words dripped like venom from her tongue. Eirik looked up at the maiden with pleading eyes.

"I beg of you, let my death be quick, maiden." Eirik pleaded, only causing the maiden's eyes and hair to grow darker with rage at his cowardly plea for death, instead of trying to appease her as a goddess and beg for life. She hadn't the patience for cowards upon the sea of Bohyun.

"I am a goddess, you pitiful fool. Dare you beg anything of me!" She shouted, causing all of the men to shake in fear as her eyes and hair turned into the darkness of black, sending the waves of the sea crashing down on top of them, bashing their heads with such force they were barely able to sit upright as she shouted unrecognizable words into the sky as everything began to swirl; the sky, the sea, and the ship. Her shouts grew louder and louder as she lifted her arms into the air, her eyes glowing with darkness as the men aboard the ship started screaming in agony and shouting prayers to the great God Odin. The sound of their pleas for Odin made the inhuman maiden roar with laughter as their ship continued to rock back and forth violently, waves crashing down upon them with great force still as she continued her tortures.

"Fools of men! Odin will not save you from Aegir!" She laughed, shouting her amusement into the roaring winds as she smiled devilishly at the men on the ship, tears streaming their faces at their fear of death. Without another word, the maiden grabbed hold of the ships' banister, smiling darkly as her body began to lower down into the water from whence she came, this time, dragging the boat full of warriors along with her. Their screams were lost in the sound of waves crashing around the whirlpool and soon they were silenced by the crushing waves that filled their throats, drowning them quickly as she continued to drag the entire vessel down into the depths by just one delicate hand.

Steinar closed his eyes tightly as the ship was dragged into the frightening abyss of the ocean. He prayed in that moment to every Norse God that passed through his head. Odin, Frigga, Freya, Aegir, Thor, Heimdall, Sif, Sigyn, even Hel. And finally, as waters began to flood into him and fill his lungs with this stinging taste of sea water, a final God appeared in his mind. With the last amount of breath and energy her could muster, he used his final breath to shout out the name of one final God. The God that so scorned every other God. The God that had single handedly insulted and bashed Aegir in his own palace in the tales from the Edda. The God of water's greatest enemy and the God of unending lies and mischief.

As life began to leave the young warrior, he looked once more upon the maiden whose sinister smile gleamed at him through the black waters of Bohyun. Her eyes smiled at him flirtatiously as she continued to drag the ship to the dark depths of Aegir's graveyard. His final thought was a scream in his mind, praying for any God at all to end her treachery. Praying for any God to tame the wild monstrosity that was the sea maiden. Praying for any God to bring her to her downfall. And in his dying breath, Steinar prayed for her reign to end upon the seas or the Norsemen. He prayed to the only God he knew sinister enough to match the sea maiden's diabolical terror.

_He prayed to Loki. _

**(A/N): I hope you guys like this so far. I actually have a few chapters typed out for this so far. Reviews/Story Favorites/Story Alerts would be greatly appreciated! Next chapter out tonight if you guys like it!**

**This entire story was inspired by the songs 'Fire', 'If I'm James Dean, You're Audrey Hepburn' and 'Don't Fall Asleep At The Helm' by the amazing band Sleeping With Sirens. Seriously, go listen!**


End file.
